The most
by sttrasum0626
Summary: take place after Harry defeated Voldemort...did some time adjustment. SS/HP , don't read if you are opposed to slash fic. Please review if you like it
1. Prologue

29/03/2010 02:44:00

I do not own anything.

The Most:

Severus Snape never thought he would have the chance to look into those brilliant green again. Not even during his final moments.

The breath-taking green of Lily Evan's eyes.

And just a second later Severus realized that the eyes he was looking at did not belong to his former best friend, but her son. There was something sparkling in the boy's eyes, tears, perhaps? Severus would never know. One last clarification and the darkness hit him. He could feel the boy gently laid down his broken body, and heard their leaving. Soon he could only heard the wind blowing against the ancient shed he was in.

"This is the end", thought Severus. "Mine, and mine alone"

The boy would know then, he though; the boy would know how desperately he was to protect him for his mother's sake; how he not only betrayed her, but his action actually caused her death; and how he was alone, so alone.

He wished the boy would only be able to see his experiences, not how they affected him emotionally. He wished the boy would not find out that he did not just through himself between death and Lily Evan's son only because he is Lily Evan's son…no, Severus stopped himself right there. There were still places where he did not want his train of thought to go, even when his was dying; especially when he was dying.

Then he could not think any more. He was losing his last sense and he sworn he would saw the exact same shade of green he had lost his site on, staring right back at him if he could just opened his own; only these pair would belonged to a different individual.

The last thing he heard sounded something like wood blocks knocking against each other, and Severus Snape knew nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

29/03/2010 05:06:00

The world as Harry Potter knew it, ended the moment he open his bedroom door that Thursday afternoon.

He was not supposed to be home, really. He was supposed to be in Foula, Scotland, dealing with a sudden appearance of thousands of Qurais, a kind of rat-like creature, which creates small illusions to lore children into its nest, where the children would be raced as the creature's infants. These Qurais could only survive in warm temperature; how they ended up in North Scotland was a true wonder.

Harry's team, recognized how tire he must had been after their incident with the dark magic art crafts markets three days ago, they asked him to go home and hopefully get some rest. By that time Harry had been investigating and following the black market for a little over nine months; it was satisfying to finally catch the many auspices and some supply lines of the event. Harry really appreciated his team for their generosity; he was proud of his M.L.E.A 4 team, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Auror Division 4, in its ability to handle tasks being giving to them as well as the observant nature of its members.

He heard movements before he pushed open the white wooden door of his bedroom.

And he froze.

There were two people in the middle of his bedroom, tangled together.

Ginny, his wife, and Fontis, one of his MLEA team members, were kissing.

In his bedroom.

Harry couldn't move.

It was not because his wife was cheating on him with one of his best friends. He had saved the man's life more than once, and so was the other way around. Their relationship developed through many near death experiences, and became more. Just three days ago, before they went for the surprise attack, in the dark alley beside the shabby motel where the market was being held, Harry and Fontis kissed, passionately. Harry could felt the other man' s body react to his touch, and oh, the sweetness of his skin! The lust and anxiety in Fontis' eyes aroused Harry more than anything.

No, what pinned Harry in his position was the fact that two sets of lips, which he had both kissed with same amount of determination, with same amount of caring, were meeting each other with the same intensity as they met his.

Harry couldn't move. He just couldn't.

After what seemed to be forever, Ginny's eyes met Harry's, and he could see the terrible sense to realization in hers. Fontis turned slowly as Ginny drew in a quick breath, and looked at Harry with so much sorrow in his amazing eyes.

He still loved Harry, Harry could tell that in one glance. So did Ginny. She loved him utterly, but she loved them both. And that apply to all three of them.

"Harry…", Fontis took a step toward him, his lips still swollen from the kiss, his voice husky. Harry silenced him with his left had. Without any words or eye contacts, Harry turned away from both Fontis and Ginny, and stepped outside what had been his home for thirteen years.

On a certain Thursday afternoon, the Harry Potter as the magic world knew died.


	3. Chapter 2

"Just up this way, Mr. Evan," yelled Ms. Biller. How did a lady, who was at least in her seventies, was able to carried two oversize suitcases up to sixth floor by stairs, non magically, and still managed to yelled to him with such ease and demand was beyond Harry's understanding.

James Evan, that's the new identity Harry picked for himself. It only seemed fitted.

"Ms. Biller, let me…" Harry pulled out his wand, as Ms. Biller seemed to have trouble making her way through an already too narrow corner with the suitcases.

"Oh, for Merlin's beard, don't you, boy. It's your first day here! Beside, I like to keep myself up for the game, physically, I mean. You know, I think we rely on our wooden sticks a bit too much sometime…" she turned the corner effortlessly and moved on.  
It was true; the lady looked slim and well form, even for a witch who was far younger than her. Harry wonder if himself would stand a chance if he had to have a wand-less combat with the lady. Her long silver hair was braided neatly behind her, with her milky white robe on her well tan, healthy looking skin; her manner reminded him a warrior goddess from the ancient Greece or some other kind of ancient cultures.

She finally stopped at the very top of the stairs on the ninth floor of the old wooden building. The cramped corridor was filled with sunlight, coming from the various sized skylights. Ms. Biller pushed open a door on her right side and led Harry in,

"I cleaned the room just yesterday, all the sheets are clean, so are the curtains, and I expect them to somewhat stay that way. Feel free to redecorate, or bring in pets if you like, just don't destroy the room. The last igit who lived here brought in a dozen fire crabs and nearly burn down the place. I expect none of that from you, Mr. Evan." She paused as she putted down the cases beside the foot of the single bed on the far side of the room.

Harry absorbed his new room in details; the bed is directly across the door alone with one night stand on each side, an one piece window stretch across the whole wall; an old ebony writing desk was set across the foot of the bed, with a same old looking wardrobe beside it. The room was bright with sunlight; the multiple sized skylights from the corridor seemed to extend on to the roof of his room. An arch covered with wooden beads curtain took placed beside the head of the bed, leading into the bathroom.

"You are sharing the bathroom with Mr. Ronan, he is out traveling right now; he does that a lot, sometimes I wouldn't hear from him for months, but he always comes back. A quite fellow he is. He's not the neatest person in the world, but quit tidy he is, so try to keep the shared area clean until he comes back," said Ms. Biller while she walked through the beads curtain and putted down a set of clean towels on bottom layer of the three-layers shelf beside the sink. Harry peeked into the communal bathroom behind her; the room was bright as the rest of the floor, with two sets of bronze sink, a shelf beside the sink on both side of the wall, two identical wooden laundry baskets set under the shelves; beneath another set of skylight was a bronze bathtub and a toilet. Small, but functional, just the way he likes it, thought Harry. The bronze pieces kind of reminded him of Hogwarts. The images of people he knew fleshed through his mind, and Harry need to literally close his eyes to let the darkness broke those ongoing memories.  
No, he's not ready for them yet.

"…en, Mr. Evan, are you listening to my words?"

Harry jumped a little when he found himself looking straight into the summer sky blue eyes of Ms. Biller's as he opened his again. They were about five inches away from him now, and filled with concern.

"Mr. Even, are you feeling all right?" Harry could see those harsh freckles around her eyes and her heavy lips, and they shouted to Harry that the owner of them was not asking about his physical health. Why did the seniors with blue eyes in his life always seemed have the ability to read his mind?

"Er…yes, I'm great, Ms. Biller, my apology. You were saying?" Harry could tell that she did not believe him, but chose to hold back her commons.

"I was just telling you the male schedule, my dear, the breakfast and lunch are self served, the kitchen is basically opened twenty-four seven, but the supper is at seven o'clock sharp. I will not allow late comers at my dinner table, understand, boy?"

"Of course, Ms. Biller," Harry felt a familiar shiver down his spin; his experiences with charismatic elder ladies had taught him a few things about obeying and being on time.

"Well, if you need anything just give me a head-up, I have to ask you to excuse me; it is about time for me to hit the kitchen."

Harry collapsed on the bed the moment Ms. Biller closed the door behind her.  
He was tired. He had been traveling through the world for the past two years. He had been to most part of Europe, South East Asia, China, Japan, Australia, Africa, and some part of South and North America; picking up random jobs for cash. Almost like a treasure hunter or a bounty hunter he once read about in Muggle's comic books. He decided to find a base for himself now; some colleague along the way had gave him the information about this little valley hidden in between the streets of Stockholm, Sweden.

It seemed like a quite place to return, Harry thought as he closed his eyes, hoping to get some sleep before the supper.

* * *

Harry woke up and found himself looking up to the starry evening sky. He searched the nightstand for his glasses and picked up his wrist watch. Darn it, he did miss supper. Harry could see the image of Ms. Biller standing in the middle of the Kitchen, glaring at him furiously when he went down for breakfast in the morning.  
It was already passed mid night, and Harry felt even more drained than he was hours ago.

He stumbled his way to the arch, candle flouting in the air lighted up one by one as he passed through them. Ms. Biller must have putted them there for him, as he did not recall seeing them earlier that day. He curved the tips of his lips a little; he would wake up early tomorrow, and brewed a nice cup of breakfast tea for the wonderful, caring lady he just met today.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror; these were normal mirror then, judging by the fact that he had not been criticized yet after five seconds. After a long sight, he turned the knob marked with 'cold' counterclockwise, and led his fingers embraced the fresh chill the running water provided. He washed his face gently for a few moments, and grabbed the face towel Ms. Biller had placed for him as he turned off the running water.

And then the sound of someone entering the beads curtain caught him off guard.

Note:

First of all, thanks for reading my work.

Not going to lie: this is my first time trying to come up with… something – please pretend that the grammar mistakes are not there, Thanks. The OCs are really just there so things can happen…don't mind them. And in case people might be wondering, Harry is not going to become dark or addicted to something.  
Again, thank you so much for reading!!! Please review if you like the story.


	4. Chapter 3

The valleys Severus Snape walked through were as quit as he liked them to be. The stars were shinning so bright that Severus did not even need to light his wand as he unlocked the backdoor of the closed Italian wine bar of a three storage high red bricks.

He found himself in the kitchen, standing face to face with the owner of this place.

"Good night, Eleanor, " Severus addressed the woman quietly.

"I wish you would tell me about your arrival before hands, I almost smash your skull in pieces, thinking you might be one of those little hooligans…" Eleanor putted his wand back in the inner pocket of her night robe.

"Sorry. I think I trusted the goodness in you that you to not perform such an unspeakable cruelty to a poor burglar who was unfortunate enough to pick the wrong place to rub, and also the wonderful memories we shared that you would not mistake me as a thief…I just didn't want to wake anyone." Severus said lightly as he started fallowing the fair woman up the stairs along the wall.

"Well, you surely woke me. Anyways, your old room is still there, we'll need to discuss about that in the morning though." Eleanor handed him an old silver key as they stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor.

"Good dreams, Eleanor." Severus said as he opened his bedroom's door.

"You too, young man." Eleanor soon disappeared around the corner.

Severus entered the room he had not return for seventeen months. Everything was kept the same, and clean. Severus thanked Eleanor a thousand times silently under the dim starlight, may that woman be blessed for eternity.

He dropped his backpack beside his bed, kicked off his traveling boots, and fell into a hand chair beside the fireplace, which was lit with a snap of his finger. Severus subconsciously started rubbing the left side of his neck, a large scar, which extended down to his upper back and left shoulder, shined with the fire light.

After a few moments, Severus got up, picked up a pair of navy blue pajama pants from his traveling bag and headed his way to the washroom. That was when he noticed something unusual.

There was dim light coming through beneath his washroom door. He did a small wave to the fireplace, and silenced the cracking noises of the burning woods, along with the light coming out from it. Under the dim light of stars, Severus could see the movement of some unnamed shadow through the leaking light.

"Hooligans," Eleanor's earlier words slipped in. He took out his wand, and tried not to make any sound as he putted his hand on the doorknob, and slowly turning it.

Severus bursted in and pointed his wand at the stranger in his washroom. The person reflected fast, and ducked down, moving away from Severus wand. Severus was surprised at the intruder's instant reaction, but he also knew for sure that this person did not carry a wand with him.

A sudden stroke hit his stomach with so much force it threw him on his back on his bedroom floor. "Oh, for sake," thought Severus, "this person can use magic without wand." He should have thought about it! The intruder jumped to him, but Severus was no stranger of ground wresting. He knew his attacker was going to jump to him, and he did. Severus caught the other's wrists and lifted the person with his right knee, threw him backward onto his back, and took the chance to pin down the attacker, with his wand pointing right in the person's face. The millisecond Severus thought he had the person down, a hand caught his throat.

They got each other. A spell was on the tip of his wand, and so was on the attacker's fingertips. He could blow the other's face off, but the same time his head and his body would probably be disconnected at the same time. He could barely breath, but he could hear another person panting. They stay there in silence for what seemed like forever.

A wind from the west blew the dark clouds away, and the moonlight shone down on the stranger's face, caused his eyes to shine like diamonds, too bright that Severus almost look away. Just when the clouds were climbing up to the moon again, when there was just enough light for Severus to take a good peek on the person's face, he saw a pair of dazzling greens looking back at him.

He snatched a quick breath in, so fast that his lungs burned.

Severus leaned in to take a closer look, too anxious to even blink – he had to be sure. He could feel the person underneath him shift uncomfortably to where this might seem to be going.

What was he thinking? He would never mistake it as anything else in the world.

Then, very slowly, Severus opened his mouth –

"…Potter?" those green eyes widen with his word. Severus could feel his own body shaking.

Then from below him, an even shakier voice answered, "…sir?"


End file.
